


Overgrown Adulation

by TheMelon



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Overwatch - Freeform, other characters to be added - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-07-22 18:09:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7449133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMelon/pseuds/TheMelon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bastion is found and promptly recruited to Overwatch, though not everybody approves of the idea. In other words, wherein Bastion attempts to befriend its fellow members. Post 'Recall' and 'Alive'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reawakening

**Author's Note:**

> There is a significant lack of Bastion fics on here, so I decided to give the adorable 'bot the attention it deserves. 
> 
> Some relationships may be present, though they will not be the center of the story.

The atmosphere was that of a deserted one. A shade of soft red with a tint of orange painted the autumn skies, rays of sunshine leaking in through the forest's trees as the wind brushed against the falling leaves. The soft drip-drop of water echoed throughout the maze of bark in a hypnotic rhythm as a glistening river made its way past defeated tree trunks, covered in vines and claimed by nature. It would have been the only sound keeping the forest company save from the occasional singing from the beautiful variety of birds.

On one tree trunk, however, lay a dormant construct of rusting machinery. It, too, had been prisoner to nature's slow takeover, vines and grass almost encasing it entirely. Olive green grass had claimed it, blossoming pink dianthus flowers sprouting atop of it. A gold finch hopped along a nearby tree branch, fluttering its wings before slowly descending onto the construct. It let out a series of chirps before climbing onto a newly made nest hosting two eggs on what could only be assumed to be the machine's left shoulder. It sat quietly, rather possessively, as it gently pecked at the smallest of the eggs.

The construct appeared to be humanoid; its parts consisting of a large bulky chest with broad shoulders encased with hard armor, vines and wires alike running down the metal arms. Its right arm seemed to end with a rusting submachine gun, while the left simply ended up forming a humanoid hand. The torso was surprisingly the body part that had been less affected by nature's grasp, old metal joining up to a gatling gun that attached to its back. Its legs lay crossed, covered in similar armor to its arms, and ended with what seemed to be mechanical feet. The gold finch pecked at the construct's small, slouched rectangular head, featuring a single gray optic that had not even seen the light of day for years; decades, even.

Its optic blinked. The gold finch's attention was drawn, two beady green eyes focusing on the contraption. The machine's sole eye seemed to stutter, static crackling away at it; until it finally settled for a red light. It continued sitting there for what seemed like minutes, until its optic emitted one final blink as the red shifted to a bright teal blue color, the LED flashing against the orange tinted head frame. Its hand twitched, and with a considerable amount of effort, attempted to lift itself from the ground; though the army of vines attaching its back to the trunk made the machine's plans a difficulty. The gold finch immediately sprung to action, spreading its wings and fluttering up until it rest upon its previously used branch, watching with both confusion and mild interest.

Nature had visibly taken its toll on the contraption, though it would not be halted as it forced its back to tear the vines apart with a sickening crunch, its arms moving ever so slightly. Uncrossing its legs, it attempted to rise, though the rust proved dominant as its movements were slow and uncoordinated. But it was determined, and with careful actions, it rest its hand on the tree trunk as it pushed itself upwards, its machinery screaming for it to stop. Almost losing its balance, the construct stabilized itself as it froze in an attempt to get used to its body.

It was an SST Laboratories Siege Automaton; commonly known as Bastion units, standing at roughly 7"3.

The gold finch chirped in an aggressive manner, and the sudden noise caused the automaton to swing its head towards the source in fright. Its joints clicked, trying to operate as fluid as possible. Minutes passed as the unit stared at the avian with an unblinking eye, its scanners observing the feathered creature. The gold finch hopped towards the end of the branch, its talons clasping at the very edge of it as the branch threatened to snap. The automaton watched its movements with utmost curiosity, studying every flicker of its head and every brush the wind had against its bright yellow plumage. It didn't seem too bad.

The gold finch suddenly fell, the Bastion unit making a desperate attempt to catch it before it hit the ground, though it promptly spread its wings and caught the wind before fluttering besides the automaton's shoulder, housing its nest. Two talons dug at the twigs and dirt forming it, and the automaton's head turned to watch it some more. It enjoyed its elegant movements, how its feathers glistened against the autumn skies and how protective it was towards the two eggs laying dormant against the rather well made nest. It was an inspiring motion.

The Bastion unit looked down, a mesmerizing mixture of pink dianthuses and golden yellow tulips dancing with the wind, attached to the ever-growing grass on its chest. It let out a mechanical whir, an arm slowly reaching up as its hand, rather harshly, plucked the golden tulip and brought it up to its optic, fascinated by it. It appeared to be the same color as the bird laying next to it, and the automaton decided that the avian would enjoy the gift. It brought the flower up to the gold finch, which recoiled in hesitance as the machine brought it closer and closer after every passing second. The Bastion unit let go of the tulip in hopes of the bird catching it, though it was met with disappointment as it failed to catch it, the glistening flower floating down to the ground. But the Bastion unit was not one to give up, and forced its rusting parts to function properly as it crouched down, its index finger and thumb grasping the flower before standing back up. Attempt number two, it thought, as it returned to bring the golden tulip towards the avian. As opposed to the first time, the feathered creature successfully caught it between its beak, and the automaton let out a happy whir; though the bird soon dropped its gift as it met the floor once more. But the Bastion unit didn't mind; as its new friend had acknowledged the gift and even attempted to hold it, and that's all it could ever ask for.

The machine stared at its companion, its optic narrowing to form the closest thing it could to a smile. The gold finch cocked its head, opening its beak as it sang a happy chirp. The Bastion unit, too, cocked its head, in an attempt to copy the bird. It let out a mechanical chirp, which spiked the bird's interest as it replied with a longer chirp. It hopped besides the automaton, before taking to the skies and opening its wings, occasionally flapping them as the wind let it hover for a few seconds. The Bastion unit let out a distressed whir, its legs clunking while the machinery inside them powered up and began to operate, trailing after the bird in an attempt to reunite with it as it fluttered past the trees. Its movements were messy, a hand having to instinctively push against an old tree in order to stop itself from tripping after one foot collided with the other. It flailed in its recovery, and while it was successfully in remaining standing, it was required to stand still and regain its composure. The automaton squinted his blue eye, scanners only identifying the towering trees alongside varieties of different flora. It shifted nervously in its place, anxiety washing over it as it realized it was alone. The Bastion unit cried a mechanical chirp in hopes of calling out to the gold finch, and each cry seemed more and more desperate as its voice grew louder and static-like.

The automaton's head immediately turned to its right as its audio scanners recognized a chirp, squinting to view the source. Its optic lit up, flashing a brighter blue as it spotted its companion hovering in the air, singing beautifully. The Bastion unit, rather clumsily, began its walking cycle. It didn't care about how uncoordinated its legs were, how ridiculous it appeared; it just didn't want to be alone. Replying with another mechanical chirp, it ran as quickly as its rusting parts allowed it. The automaton was soon to catch up to the idling avian, which had hopped onto the ground to clean its now scruffy feathers. The Bastion unit halted, its legs suddenly stopping as it observed what separated the two; a stream of glistening water that ran down the long, rocky river bank. The sharp rocks were covered in moss, water dampening them as it continued down its path. The machine nervously took two steps back, an anxious whir leaving its voice box. The gold finch let out what could only be assumed as a reassuring chirp, wings fluttering as its talons hopped onto an old mossy tree trunk that joined the two sides.

The Bastion unit stared at the trunk, like if it stared intent enough it would suddenly appear on the other side without any risk or damage. It cocked its head up and gazed at the avian, optic twitching in panic. It brought a leg up, its rusting orange foot gently colliding with the tree trunk as it pressed down, a loud crunch echoing as the automaton quickly retracted its leg in fear. The gold finch let out another chirp, though it took a while for the automaton to regain the confidence to try another attempt. It returned to press its foot against the aging bark, releasing another mechanical cry, but this time it did not give in to the threatening possibility of the trunk crumbling apart. It firmly asserted itself, both of its arms instinctively extending in order to keeps its balance, as it trailed another leg onto the bark. Its optic was glued to its feet as it slowly began moving, right foot, left foot, right, left... it hummed to itself as it studied its own movements, gaining more confidence after every step while keeping a steady rhythm. The gold finch chirped happily, and the automaton cocked its head up to gaze at it. The Bastion unit's optic's lower lid rises, forming an attempting smile, as it let out a mechanical chuckle, shoulders jittering. The automaton finally reached the end of the tree trunk, right foot pressed firmly against the dancing grass on the other side, its left foot promptly joining it. The machine turned to look behind it, optic glimmering in amazement as it realized that it had successfully traveled from one place to another. The bird hovered up to the contraption's shoulder, resting upon its nest as it rubbed its head against thr side of the automaton's; the gesture causing it to release a soft, mechanical coo.

A leaf fell, dancing ever so slowly as it drifted down from the growing trees, painted a soft orange. It caught the automaton's attention immediately, and it quickly extended its left arm to catch it. Fingers clenched into a fist as it felt the leaf fall into its hand, giving a soft crunching noise. It opened its palm, particles of the leaf brushed off against the wind, the leaf prevented from joining them as it was held by the Bastion unit's digits. Another whir, and the machine gently placed it inside the bird's nest, the gold finch staring at it before parting its beak in order to nibble at the top of it. Realizing it wasn't food, it spat it out, but nonetheless kept the remains of it by its side.

The path from now on was unclear; the Bastion unit had attempted to reunite with its companion, but now that it had succeeded, it was clueless. Its eye focused on a large hill a couple of yards in front of it, and with the avian now sitting on its nest, it decided that taking that path seemed the most obvious. It took to its feet, its movements having already improved; though they were no where near perfect. Its body jittered after every step, head looking up to observe the hundreds, maybe even thousands, of falling leaves, each having its own rhythm while the wind took them to the ground. The automaton's feet crunched on the leaves decorating the floor, the grass getting shorter and shorter before eventually stopping entirely, the path now made completely out of hard dirty; save from a couple of leaves here and there.

The walk up the hill was a difficult one, the machine's legs not having been used to the amount of pressure needed in order to scale it. Nonetheless, the automaton remained determined as it used dying trees as leverage, pushing off of them and giving itself a boost. It let out a mechanical hum, a somewhat familiar sensation of dread washing over its core as the calming noises of fauna and nature grew faint, replaced by sounds of machinery and speeding automobiles.

The Bastion unit finally traversed to the top of the hill, its hand anxiously pressed against its chest. Its feet clunked against slightly shattered tiles among hard concrete, optic darting to observe its new surroundings. The gold finch cocked its head up and took flight, gliding along the wind. The Bastion unit let out a distressed cry again, legs moving immediately as it went to run after its friend; though a blurred car promptly rushed past it, causing it to stumble backwards in shock. Its head jittered with worry, hand clenched in a tight fist. The bird was out of sight. Darting its head to see if there were any incoming cars, the machine was quick to sprint to the other side, paint scraping off of its feet against the hardened sidewalk. It was getting darker.

It stood frozen in front of a large structure, made out of what seemed like rocks. Water curiously sprang from the peak of it, only to trail downwards into a small pool decorated with lillypads. Footsteps filled the machine's audio scanners, causing it to jerk its head towards the source. It let out a mechanical whimper as it caught sight of a tall male with pale skin. The human stopped in its tracks, eyes glued to the machine. His hand shook, slowly reaching for his pocket, his brown eyes a mix of fear and hatred. The automaton took a step back, head darting behind it.

"Stupid Omnic!"

The automaton was quick to turn around, its optic now focused on a small crowd of what appeared to be teenagers. The machine whirred curiously, a hand extending ever so slightly.

"Get back! It's a Bastion unit!" cries another voice.

The contraption shifted its gaze to its left, spotting a dark colored woman holding her child protectively. The machine shook, its optic crackling with static momentarily before promptly switching back to its teal blue color. It whirred with desperation, taking two small steps towards the two. _It's alright_ , it wanted to reassure, _I won't hurt you_. It stopped, a soft coo leaving its audio box as it got an idea, a hand trailing up to its shoulder as his digits grasped at the crinkled leaf. It displayed it to the pair, optic glued to them in order to see their reactions. Its gaze faltered when it saw that the only reactions it got were those of fear as the woman quickly rushed backwards, hand firmly wrapped around her child's. The Bastion unit shook its head, taking a few more steps forwards, hand extending further in order to wave the leaf- _Why are you scared?_ it asks itself, _did I do something wrong?_

It let out a mechanical grunt as a metal can of energy drink collided with its head, clinking against the back of it. The automaton quickly turned around to witness the previous group of teenagers burst into uncontrollable laughter, and the machine was fast to realize that it had gathered a much larger audience. It spun around, humans spread everywhere, leaving no escape, no room to get away. It felt like breaking down, like it wanted to permanently shut down. Chants of ridicules bombarded it, screams of fear overwhelming it, several voices calling authorities. The Bastion unit whimpered, a constant overwhelming anxiety pressuring it as static began to interrupt its hearing, wincing and stumbling. It attempted to straighten itself, fingertips releasing the leaf as it drifted down to the ground. The automaton froze, its optic faltering, flashing static; before its teal blue color was replaced by a burning red one, its old programming taking control.

The Bastion unit's form began to shift. Its head lowered into a panel present on its chest, which in turn opened a second panel and displayed its energy core, flashing blue with the scent of ozone. Its arms lowered, the armor pushing the actual arms behind it as they formed a neat box-like pattern. The automaton's gatling gun straightened and pushed itself to where its torso would have been, the chest re-positioning itself upwards to allow better space. Its knees bent, a second section opening up and kneeling down while its feet firmly planted themselves into the ground at the back, two metal stumps digging into the ground from the newly formed second apartment. The automaton let out a mechanical cry, its voice far deeper and aggressive than before.

Without wasting a second, the Bastion unit fired.

The gatling gun shot its small but thick bullets in an alarmingly fast rate, a constant ringing of its firing speed surrounding the crowd as it aimed towards the group of teenagers. Any noise was drowned out by the sound of banging, bullets cutting through their skin and piercing their internal organs. They fell limp into a crimson puddle of their own blood, the red liquid dripping onto the floor and swimming within the tile's cracks. Screams were faintly heard, but the Bastion unit didn't scare. It turned its entire body, bullets decorating the floor as it reloaded. It aimed upwards, fifteen bullets penetrating a woman's head as they shot through her skull in a cloud of red, eyes rolled back as her skin paled, knees giving in and falling besides her crying daughter. The child let out an ear piercing scream, turning her head towards the machine in any desperate attempt at reasoning - her vision blurred with tears as bullets dug into her stomach, her grip on her mother's hand tightening before her hand fell limp.

Screams echoed throughout the town. The few teenagers that were left had attempted escape, but the Bastion unit was smart; its bullets shooting their legs and causing them to stumble and fall, before promptly being dispatched. Any fleeing human would meet a similar fate. Sirens joined the large cluster of sounds, but the machine kept firing. Three police officers arrived, arms shaking as their grip tightened - fingers firmly placed on their glocks' trigger. The Omnic paid them no attention; gaze fixed on a single struggling male caught between two cracking walls. His hand had dropped his phone, the device smashing upon impact with the hard tiles. His chest heaved, blood coating his clothes as he clenched his teeth. Tears streamed from his eyes, staining his cheeks as he struggled for breath. He exhaled, swallowing the lump in his throat before letting out one final cry; his throat exploding with a squirt of hot blood as bullets clinked against the floor.

The machine only stopped firing as it felt the harsh collision of bullets against its back, letting out a pained mechanical cry. Its energy core threatened to shattered, cracks forming at its sides. The Bastion unit quickly turned around, bullets biting away at one of the officer's life, finger limply pulling the trigger two more times before the gun effortlessly fell to the floor, the human soon joining it with struggling breathing.

One police jumped towards the automaton, his glock smashing against the Bastion unit's chest piece. It scraped the grass from it, constantly pounding at it while he body blocked the gatling gun. Within one second, his stomach is pierced with hundreds of bullets, eyes widened in pain as he bit his tongue. The remaining officer sneaked behind the unit, taking two more shots at the automaton's core. Another mechanical cry, and the machine swings around - the first officer's limp body slinging off of it as he collided with his partner, the two stumbling to the ground. With heavy mechanical grunts, the Bastion unit fires and unloads every last bullet into the two, their faces pale; a high contrast to the bright red leaking from their wounds.

The town was silent.

The Bastion unit extended a wiry probe, trailing it to its back. The probe glides across his energy core, steaming up as it repairs the shattered glass in mere seconds. Finishing up, the probe bends to his chest, sparks flying as it cleaned the marks caused by the offending glock. With one final scan, the automaton reconfigured; its body shifting once more as it returned to its previous bipedal state.

Its optic changed to blue.

The automaton blinked, optic requiring a few seconds in order to properly see its surroundings. It took a step back, hand quivering. It scanned all of the bodies. None of them were alive. The Omnic let out a barely audible cry, taking to its feet as it approached the pale, limp body of a child. The machine crouched down, a hand timidly extending, fingers brushing against her skin. _Hello?_ it wanted to ask, _are you okay, little one?_ It turned its head, concentrating on the mother, who had her hand laying next to her daughter's. The Bastion unit rose back up, a soft mechanical whimper echoing throughout the empty nearby halls. With one more step, it heard a crunch. Glancing at the source, it lifted its foot, and saw the leaf it had dropped, ruined and destroyed. Liquid leaked down its back, droplets of hot blood trickling onto its head. Curious, the automaton reached its hand backwards and brushed against its back, before trailing it up its gatling gun. Stiffening in surprise, it retracted its hand and observed the red fluid running down its fingers.

The Bastion unit lowered its arm, its optic gazing at the pool of blood coating the floor. A beautiful shade of purple and navy painted the night sky, stars shining brightly. It was beautiful, and the automaton deemed it inappropriate.

Maybe it _should_ be alone.

The automaton's digits twitched anxiously. Turning around, it shot one final glance at the stomach twisting scene it had created, before it made its way back to the forest. Its feet were mere patters against the ground, its usual heavy clunking gone and washed away with intense guilt. Its head hung low, single eye refusing to look back. It sped up once it detected faint footsteps echoing from the corridors.

Its shoulders slumped as it entered the forest, the wind having died out and the leaves barely visible against the dark sky. It could hear screaming, more police sirens, and it shook its head with both denial and defeat. A right foot clunked down on the same fallen tree trunk from earlier, left foot soon joining it as it fearlessly traversed the river. It was eerily silent; no birds sang, no drops of water splashed against mossy rocks, no trees waving in the cold breeze.

At least it couldn't hurt anybody here.

A familiar chirp sounded behind it. The automaton turned around, its saddened eye lighting up as it spotted the gold finch fluttering next to it. It hopped alongside the Omnic's shoulder, perching on the peak of its nest before softly pecking at the automaton's corners of its face, causing the machine to let out a mechanical chuckle. The Bastion unit's left arm trailed up to its shoulder, its index finger gently brushing over the avian's head.

It slowly crouched down and sat itself on an intruding rock, covered by invading grass and moss, vines trailing down its hard corpse. The Omnic's head glanced towards the beautiful night sky, bright stars shining in a hypnotic beat. The full moon shimmered with grace, rays of purple swallowing the forest, painting the trees. The gold finch chirped, and the automaton shifted its gaze between its companion and the gorgeous moon.

 _Ganymede,_ it thought, _I will call you... Ganymede._ it hummed softly, watching with curiosity as the bird cleaned its wings.

Grass rustled louder than it should have. The Bastion unit immediately turned its head, optic scanning anxiously in an attempt to locate any possible intruders. It let out a whir, the blue LED in its eye acting as a flashlight. The rustling grew louder, and the Omnic slowly rose to its feet, a hand hovering in front of the gold finch in a possessive manner.

Time appeared to stop as a figure emerged from the grass.

"O-Oh, uhm, hello," booms a deep voice, a tint of nervousness in its tone, causing the Bastion unit to instinctively take a few steps back. Its optic ran another scan, and identified the figure as a large, eastern gorilla. The ape's armor shimmered against the moonlight, its golden yellow eyes fixed on the Omnic's. The automaton darted its optic to view the gorilla's hands trail down to its belt, finger tips slowly wrapping firmly around a large, horizontal machine.

The world was silent.

"You're not attacking me," it says, and the Bastion unit failed to recognize what the ape is implying. Its digits brushed against the machine attached to an iron belt, slowly letting go of it completely. The automaton studied the gorilla's figure with curiosity - the gold finch chirping somewhat aggressively. The chirps startled the Omnic; the gorilla flinching ever so slightly as he watched the automaton let out a mechanical shush, a raised index finger tapping against the bird's beak.

"I'm sorry to have startled your friend," he apologizes, and the automaton shifts its attention back to the ape. It whirs reassuringly, its optic's bottom lid raising to form its smile. _No, no,_ it wants to say, _you don't have anything to be sorry for._

It thinks this with a wash of guilt.

The gorilla's lips curved into a smile, his goldenrod eyes suddenly widening as a large palm tucked its fingers inside a slot in his glistening white armor, promptly removing his digits as they grasped a small piece of paper. "My name is Winston, look-!" he says, extending his arm and offering the Omnic the paper. With hesistance, the automaton takes it, bringing it up to its eye as it reads the bold text. Sure enough, the text read 'Winston', and the automaton turned its hand in order to view the other side, in which more text had been inscribed on it.

 _'Never accept the world as it appears to be, dare to see it for what it_ could _be.'_

The Bastion unit liked that quote.

"Ah," begins Winston, a hearty chuckle escaping his lips, "I see you're intrigued. An old friend of mine said that," he says, and the Omnic could have sworn it spotted the gorilla's smile falter for but a mere second. It offered to return the paper, the ape nodding softly as his fingers grasped the slit of paper and inserted it into a slot in his armor. Winston let himself fall down on a log, the old bark shaking against the gorilla's weight. The noise startled the automaton, but the sight of a relaxed Winston appeared to calm it down. It returned to perch itself on its rock, not too far away from its large companion.

"I tend to wander around these areas at night. It's a necessary breath of fresh air," says Winston, a digit readjusting his glasses. "But I have to ask, my friend, what are you doing out here?" he asks. Even if the machine answers his question, he sincerely doubts he'd understand the Omnic's mechanical language.

It takes the Bastion unit several seconds to respond, finally settling with a soft coo, barely audible to the ape's ears.

The two looked up to observe the moon. Winston narrowed his eyebrows, but forced a smile upon his lips.

"You're not like the others, are you?" he asks, head tilting towards the Omnic. The question catches it off guard, and the automaton curiously awaits for more. "You don't want to destroy, to kill, or to rule," says Winston, eyes slowly shifting towards the moon. His smile extended into a toothy grin, before releasing a hearty chuckle. "You just want to discover, don't you?" he adds, shifting his gaze to the Bastion unit's almost hidden bird over its two eggs.

A soft wind brushed against them, and the automaton ended up staring at the dancing grass. _Yes_ , it says, _I suppose that is true._

It nods, and that's all the information Winston requires.

"Imagination is the essence of discovery," he says, and the Bastion unit chirps softly. "You're special, my friend. A unique copy among thousands. You may be alone, angry, sad, content, or miserable, but know that you are one of a kind," he speaks, raising to his feet after two attempts at getting up. "And I know a place where you can't be alone, angry, sad, or miserable," he hums, and as the Bastion unit studies the gorilla's movements, it recoils anxiously as Winston extends his left arm, palm wide open.

"Are you with me?"


	2. Acquaintanceships

The trip back to Watchpoint: Gibraltar was a tedious one. Both Winston and the Bastion unit remained silent, the only noise accompanying the sound of their heavy footsteps being the muffled sirens as the gorilla lead them out to the forest's exit on the other side. The automaton had no idea where it was going, and it tread with hesitance, but the occasional glance and gentle nod Winston sent it gave it reassurance; temporarily, at the very least.

Their pacing slowed as time dragged on. Minutes became hours. Winston's feet ached as he grunted with an uncomfortable frown on his lips, and the automaton's rusty compartments still weren't used to it moving.

A drop of water splashed onto the ground. The Bastion unit immediately spun around, its optic focused on the tiny puddle running on the ground. "It's raining," boomed Winston's deep voice, an index finger readjusting his glasses as another droplet fell from the sky. "The base isn't too long from now, my friend, but we better camp out here for the night," he mused, his goldenrod eyes darting in an attempt to find shelter among the series of rocks surrounding them. The closest he could find was a large rock barely sticking out, though it wouldn't provide much shelter for the both of them. He would have to make due with what he had.

The ape popped part of his chest piece open, a large hand grabbing what the automaton could only describe as a mechanical box. He planted it firmly on the ground, letting out an embarrassed sigh before tapping it gently with one of his digits. The device flickered briefly, blinking repeatedly until flashing a white light as it formed a barrier field around them, shaped like a bubble. "This will protect us," explains Winston, stretching an arm and cooing as his bones let out a satisfying click. The rain ran down the barrier, eager to get inside.

The Bastion unit tilted its head as it observed the bubble. Its flickering interior hummed a deep but nonetheless soft and soothing tune, and the automaton repeated what it heard. It let out a mechanical whir, humming somewhat off-tune. Its cyan optic narrowed at the persistent droplets of water, taking a reluctant step forward. It looked back at Winston for reassurance, but only got a curious stare for an answer. Directing its head back towards the rain, the Bastion unit slowly extended its left arm, peaking it outside of the barrier with surprising ease.

The water splashed against its fingers. The automaton immediately retracted its hand, its thumb rubbing anxiously against its index. Whirring quietly, it returned to reach its arm out, this time with confidence. The rain dripped through its fingers, running down its palm in a dancing river; small, yet graceful. The Bastion unit stared at the rain as it gently moved its hand, its palm facing upwards as it ended up cupping a small puddle of clean water in the center.

With mixed feelings, the machine took another step forward, until it was no longer within the dry shelter of the barrier.

The rain sprinkled down its body, the Omnic quivering slightly as the liquid ran down its face. It stood there, staring at its own palm as it gently clenched its fist, the water escaping through the small cracks in its hand. The Bastion unit watched as the rain hit the trees, which danced in the peaceful wind. It looked down as it suddenly heard a loud splash, and glanced with curiosity as it lifted its right foot up, a series of water running down its compartments. The puddle it had stepped in grew bigger by the second, and the rain adding to its increasing body showered it in rhythm. The automaton stood upright, once again opening its palm as it let out the quietest of mechanical cries.

Winston could only watch with pride, his lips curving into a warm smile.

~

"Yes, yes, I'll be there soon, Lena," Winston assures through his armor's communicator, rolling his eyes but nonetheless allowing a hearty chuckle to escape his lips as he slowly made his way through a crystalline cave. The Bastion unit trailed not too far behind, not really concentrating on the path but instead observing the beautiful crystals protruding from the ground and ceiling. _"Bloody 'ell, Winston, you've had us worried! The next time you go on your poxy walks, at least tell us if you're staying somewhere overnight!"_ the automaton heard an unfamiliar voice yell. It assumed it was the 'Lena' that Winston had mentioned prior.

"I know, I'm sorry, Lena, honestly. I just got a bit..." he paused, turning his head to glance at the Omnic behind him, "...distracted," he coughs, unsure of the appropriate word to use.

_"I-"_

"Oh, and before I forget, rally up the team," Winston interrupts, promptly taking off his glasses in order to remove some dust that had formed in the corners of his left eye, "I've got a new recruit," he says, placing his glasses firmly atop his nose.

 _"Aye, aye, cap'n!"_ the voice cracks through the communicator, followed by a high pitched giggle. Winston felt a grin tug at the corners of his mouth. _"I'll see you soon, Winston!"_

"Alright, Lena. Take care," he finishes, switching off his communicator with a static buzz. He turned his head, directing his gaze to the automaton, "Sorry about that," he chuckles, "Just one of my friends back at Overwatch,"

The Bastion unit cooed softly. _Overwatch..._ The name certainly rang a bell.

The blinding sunlight leaked through the glistening navy blue cave, the light bouncing off the glistening gemstones painting its interior. The automaton let out a mechanical scoff, its digits desperately trying to pull a beautifully colored purple gemstone from the damp wall, grunting as it finally detached it from the clingy surface, almost stumbling to the ground. It regained its balance, opening its palm to observe the shimmering stone.

"Oh, an amethyst," Winston adds in, "Good find! Some of the gems down here truly are amazing," he chuckles, squinting slightly as the sunlight grew brighter.

 _Yes..._ the Bastion unit ran its thumb over the stone's facets.  _It really is..._

"Well, here we are," the scientist says, a hand reaching out to grab the edge of a dulled rock outside the cave's high exit, grunting softly as he pulled himself upwards with relative ease; although he definitely wasn't as agile as he used to be. Crouching down, he extended a hand for the Omnic, "Come on, my friend. Grab my hand and I'll pull you up," he says with a smile, and the automaton nods slowly. It gently places the amethyst inside the nest resting on its left shoulder, before intertwining its digits with Winston's. It firmly planted the tip of its submachine gun against the walls of the cave in order to boost itself, as Winston's spare hand reached out to grab the machine's left arm and promptly pull it up, clenching his teeth as he strained.

The Omnic let out a surprised beep, stumbling to the floor. A twig fell from its nest, and the contraption's optic blinked in terror as it eagerly brushed its fingers against his shoulder, releasing a reassured coo when it felt the nest and its content still in place. It gently picked the fallen twig up and slowly placed it back inside, cackling softly. It got to its feet, turning around to see if the gorilla was alright.

"Gah," he mutters, "sorry about that," he chuckles nervously, a middle finger pushing his glasses back up to save them from slipping off, "the base is just up ahead. Just a few more kilometers through a tunnel, and we'll be there in no time."

~

"A new member," beamed Mercy, the corners of her lips curving into a soft smile as she gently clapped her hands together, "how exciting."

The conference hall was definitely smaller than it needed it to be. When it had first been made, Overwatch had never expected to get so many new additions to the team. As of Winston's recall, many previous members had answered, as well as the scientist going out of his way to hire recruits he saw fit for the group.

"I am intrigued," admits Satya Vaswani, a former worker for Vishkar Corporation. Recruited after feeling out of place inside her company's strict orders, she promptly joined Overwatch by request. Sitting with her left leg crossed across her right, her hands met neatly on her lap.

"C'aw, gonna get a bit cramped in 'ere, don't you think?" pipes Junkrat, sitting fairly at the back right next to the juggernaut of a man, Roadhog. "You goodie two-shoes fairies are gettin' pretty eager for hirin' new blokes," he cackles, elbowing Roadhog with an impossibly wide grin.

"I am sure Winston has made the right decision, Junkrat," Satya responds, her mouth forming a smirk -- unbeknownst to her, of course. The emotionless element of her personality was definitely a manifestation of Vishkar's strict rules and a result of her rough uprising, and though she was slowly but surely cracking away from her shell, she was still rather uncomfortable with showing too much emotion.

"I AM BEAMING!" shouts Reinhardt, bursting into a hearty chuckle in his seat, his log-sized arms causing Torbjörn to squirm in his seat next to him, the Swedish engineer letting out a somewhat lighthearted groan.

"We can tell," mutters Torbjörn, although deep within his heart he shared his German friend's enthusiasm.

"Where _is_ the big guy? He said he'd be here soon - it's been more than half an hour!" speaks Tracer, her arms crossed and digits tapping anxiously.

"I am sure he is fine, Tracer," reassures Mei-ling, shooting a warm smile. Sat beside her is Aleksandra Zaryanova, a Russian weightlifter having just ended the beginning of a second Omnic Crisis in Russia; or at the very least, putting it to a temporary pause.

Genji Shimada and Tekhartha Zenyatta sit more or less mirroring Junkrat and Roadhog; both behind the front rows, although unlike Junkrat, the two remained silent, their legs crossed.

"Should we ring 'im again?" asks Tracer, beginning to shift in her seat as her bronze eyes stared at the base's entrance, harshly chewing on her bottom lip.

"Lena, stop this. It's unlike Winston to not reply if anything severe has happened. All of us know how much he likes to report everything," speaks Mercy.

Tracer immediately sprung to her feet, fists clenched tightly, "But what if-"

"I'm here!" booms Winston, "I'm here, I'm here, I'm here," he repeats, grinning as he slowly wedges himself through Gibraltar's entrance. "I'm sorry I took so long. That rain we had earlier really put a spanner in my plans," he says, stretching both his arms out.

"It's perfectly understandable, Winston," Mercy speaks, her voice calm and sensible. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Winston clicks his tongue, shaking his head, "I'm fine, Angela. Honestly, nothing hap-"

"WINSTON!" yells Tracer, zipping past the seats in a teal blue line, popping up behind the scientist and wrapping her arms around his waist, squeezing a little too tightly as the gorilla stumbled backwards, chuckling lightly. "I'm happy to see you too, Lena,"

"Let the poor guy go, Lena," Torbjörn snickers, receiving yet another loud laughter from Reinhardt.

"Sorry, sorry," Tracer apologizes, and promptly blinks back to her seat, sitting rather impatiently as she tapped her foot against the floor, a small smile on her plush lips.

Winston readjusts his glasses, clearing his throat and straightening his composure, leaning on the podium at the start of the hall. "I assume you're all doing well," he begins, earning various nods, "good. Now, Tracer probably told you the news-"

"About new recruit?" Zarya asks, "Yes, zippy-woman informed."

Winston nodded. There was a brief silence, the scientist swallowing a lump in his throat and releasing a breath he hadn't known he was holding. "Uh, right," he continues, his chest feeling light - painfully, almost - as he rubbed his palms together. "So, uh, I-I know some of you won't exactly.... like this, BUT-" he quickly adds, inwardly cringing at the curious yet skeptical glares of Torbjörn, "w-we at, uh, at Overwatch, try to add some... variety and, uhm, diversity... to - to our roster,"

"Winston, what is it? Are you alright, luv?" asks a concerned Tracer.

The scientist fidgets. "Y-Yes, just... without further ado, I present our newest recruit," he manages, directing his attention towards the hall's entrance and nodding.

At this point, the crew weren't sure of what to expect. They were skeptical, and doubtful, and definitely confused at Winston's words, but they had faith in him. They knew that he would make the right choice, and they knew that the new addition to the team would be a valuable one.

What they didn't expect, was a seven foot tall battle automaton representing the very icon of a devastating war walking into the room.

The Bastion unit did its best to mimic Winston's wave it had witnessed him do hours before, chirping happily. The room was still and eerily quiet.

"What is that doing here." Zarya's cold voice echoes throughout the hall. It wasn't a question - her tone definitely confirmed that.

Winston inhaled. "Alright, so I know some of you-"

"Winston," began Torbjörn, "that is a Bastion unit. Omnics... designed to kill. It is, by every definition of the word, a **WALKING WEAPON.** "

"Fuck this!" Junkrat scowls, immediately getting to his feet, "No - No, I ain't havin' this! I agree with ol' Swed! It was bad enough having the other scrapheap fuckin' float about and go on about peace and tranquility or whatever, but at least it was somewhat humanoid!"

Zenyatta could feel Genji shift in his seat. "Remain calm, my pupil," his soft voice hums. Genji reluctantly halts, his knuckles white from how hard he had clenched his fist.

"This fuckin' thing has caused so. MANY of my people to die back in Australia!" Junkrat grit his teeth, marching forward - only for Roadhog's huge hand to halt his process, the skinnier man struggling to escape his bodyguard's grip.

"Winston..." mutters the despaired voice of Mercy, a petite hand covering her mouth as she tried to convince herself that what their leader had done was right,

"I will destroy it. I will destroy with my own hands." Zarya scoffs, and Mei's face shows a patch of concern.

Winston clenches his eyes shut, as the Bastion unit scutters in place, taking a step back with a loud clunk, its optic trying to focus on the number of disappointed faces. It let out another cry, its arms shaking with fear.

"Listen, just listen -" begins Winston, slamming a fist down on the podium, "I know you guys have been through a lot, and I mean _a lot._ But this Bastion unit is _unique_. There is so much... so much potential this specific one has!" he says, his voice cracking as he tried to rationalize, his head darting to look at the Omnic's side, "E54 is different."

"You can't say anything until you've been part of a war, Winston," scowls Torbjörn, his eyes narrowed in spite, "I had to sit through the deaths of loved ones, of civillians - you have no idea what some of us have seen. Having this Omnic roam about in _our_ halls is a disgrace to our cause!"

Winston shook his head, slowly, his head turning to look at the handful of faces staring at him - he looked to find hope, somebody who agreed with him, anything - so his eyes met Lena's, and the only thing he earned was a look of concern and worry within her eyes.

_"Stupid Omnic!"_

_"Get back! It's a Bastion unit!"_

The words rang in the automaton's head, its optic darting around the room. I don't want to be here, it thought, I want to go home. I want to go back.

It felt small. It felt uncomfortable and anxious and it quivered before the horde of insults people were screaming at it.

"To judge a person based on others of similar aspects, is a mistake," began Zenyatta, his two hands pressed together in front of his chest, digits intertwined, "To pose an example, Satya comes from a company of which is frowned upon by many, with ultimately dark - but somewhat understandable - motives. That does not mean that Satya, as a person, is the same as the company she once worked for," he says, his head turning towards the woman in question sitting two seats in front of him, "My apologies for using you as an example, Symmetra, I did not mean to cause any damage or insult you in any way - if that is your concern,"

Satya's lips curved into a gentle small, "No, it is fine, Zenyatta. You've shared an interesting and very valid point,"

"That's different! You're a person, Symm! Just like us!" Junkrat exclaims, before shooting a glare towards the Omnic monk, "and you can't say anything, 'bot. You're just as untrustworthy as the other one!"

"To say my master is untrustworthy is a very dangerous view to take," Genji speaks, a semi-mechanic voice sharp within his helmet, "Repeat your mistake once more and I guarantee you will _not_ make it again,"

"Genji, that's enough," says Zenyatta, "Jamison's distrust and uncertainty around Omnics is understandable and speaks for itself,"

"I lost so many soldiers to these machines..." spoke Reinhardt, and as soon as the very first syllable left his lips, the entire room went silent. It was incredibly rare to see Reinhardt in any mood besides obnoxiously loud, gleeful and funny.

"It was difficult. It was difficult watching my leader die. Balderich was an inspiration. He was like a father to me. I was left alone. All of my Crusaders were gone. Mercilessly killed by emotionless Omnics," he wept, a thumb wiping back fresh tears that had formed in the corners of his eyes and already trickled down his cheek.

"But," he sniffed, an arm wiping away any tears that were left, "if Winston is true to his word - that this Omnic is different - then I will believe him," he adds, forcing a small but nonetheless proud smile.

Winston's lips curved into a smile, mirroring Reinhardt's, with a look in his golden eyes that read _Thank you_. The Bastion unit's optic gazed at the German. The armor set besides him was familiar. It stopped shaking - whirring quietly, it rubbed its thumb over its index. It lowered its submachine gun, pointing it directly at the floor. The automaton didn't want to hurt him. It didn't want to hurt anybody.

"Wilhelm, you cannot be serious," croaked Torbjörn, his eyes wide in disbelief. "You fought in the war. You were the only survivor. And you're choosing to trust this killing machine...?"

Reinhardt narrowed his eyes, "I am."

"I fought in the war in Russia. I lead my people to victory," began Zarya, a sickening scowl present on her lips, "all these machines know is to kill. They are incapable of feeling emotion. Omnics are bad. To keep this Omnic here is a risk we cannot afford," she spat.

"On the contrary, Zaryanova," added Zenyatta, "Omnics are very well capable of feeling everything an organic species such as humans can. Deep within every Omnic is a soul. Souls are what powers us, what makes us all unique, and what sets us apart from mindless drones," he hums. "You have worked with souls, am I correct, Angela?"

Mercy avoided eye contact. She stared at he floor. There was a brief moment of silence, though Zenyatta got his answer before he decided it would be best to change the topic,

"Yes."

"Who bloody cares?! All you 'bots are good for is gettin' used for scrap - and that's _it_! Soul or not, those things are designed for killin', to murder everythin' it sees!"

"Incorrect," says Zenyatta, "If I recall, Bastion units were once made for peacekeeping purposes. They were reprogrammed and ordered to serve as the bulk of an Omnic army by an unknown Mother A.I.," he adds, "it seems that a hiccup in - E54, was it? - E54's programming has reverted it back to its original peacekeeping motives, albeit it with much more free will and sentience,"

Junkrat scoffs. "And where would we keep it? Giving it its own room would be bad idea, and making it share room with somebody would be too dangerous," Zarya remarks, "it is simply not an option to have it here in the base."

"I-I can keep it," Mei's quiet voice pipes in.

'...'

"You cannot be serious, mladenets," Zarya spoke softly, her voice a mere whisper as she glared at the Chinese woman sinking in her seat.

Mei bit her lip, "I could always use a research assistant. I would be able to keep an eye on it while also getting some help back in the lab!"

Zarya clenched her fists, "You know I am always available to come help you, Mei-ling," she inhaled, "why would you choose this?"

A hand placed itself on the Russian's shoulder, Mei's thumb softly brushing against Zarya's skin, "I feel so bad asking you to help because of my own decisions," Mei responds, her brown eyes darting to the floor, "you are so dedicated to weightlifting and your own decisions that I refuse to ask you to put a stop to your hobbies because of me."

Zarya swallowed a lump in her throat, "Mei..."

"Zenyatta and I can help take care of the Bastion if Zarya ever wants to visit Mei-ling," Genji bowed, his index and middle finger raised in front of his chest, "it is always welcome in our company,"

"And I can take it training with me!" roars Reinhardt, chuckling, "it would be good to see what my barrier field could use to improve, and a Bastion unit's bullets is the perfect way to know!"

"You guys are mental," Junkrat mutters, letting out a hysterical laughter, "you guys are bloody idiots! This is what it wants! Oooh, lookit me, Oi'm so fancy and have a soul or whatever - _please_ lower your guards so I can shoot you all in the face when you _least expect it!"_

The Bastion unit gazed at the crowd. These people wanted to spend time with it? It didn't know what to do, but it needed to do... something.

With loud thuds, the automaton took a step forward and began to slowly walk towards the row of seats. It spent every second sharing glances with the members it passed by, a hand gently pushing a small seat out of the way. It wedged through the gap awkwardly, its movements still clumsy and out of sync, though it was apparent that the automaton was trying. Mei and Zarya both froze as they saw the Bastion unit approach them - as Zarya instinctively put her arm around Mei's as a means of defense. She narrowed her eyes in disgust the closer it got, before promptly halting.

The Bastion unit slowly knelt down until it was at Mei's height, and as gently as possible, it reached in the nest riding its shoulder, and extended its arm to softly offer the glistening amethyst to her.

"You're giving this to me...?" Mei asks, her own arms peaking out as she opened her palm.

The Bastion unit nodded, letting out a mechanical chirp before placing the gemstone in her palm, promptly using its digits to close Mei's hand and standing upright again.

"Thank you," she responded, a warm smile planted on her lips as she wrapped her arms around the automaton's waist, hugging it tightly. It was a tad uncomfortable, but the woman didn't mind. The Bastion unit looked down in curiosity, its arms retracting out of pure surprise as it studied the woman's actions intensely. It cooed softly, before doing its best to mimic her by wrapping its arms around her back, its thumb brushing against her in circles; an action it had witnessed Mei doing earlier.

"It's official, then!" boomed Winston, who shortly joined the two with a satisfied grin, "E54, welcome to Overwatch!" he exclaims, patting its back.

The automaton perked up and let out a mechanical whir, watching as Tracer soon zipped towards the group, leaning on a seat that was dangerously close to falling over. "It already knows how to hug! That's adorable!" she giggled, as Mei released it and took a step back, holding the amethyst close to her chest.

"AH!" exclaims Reinhardt, elbowing the Bastion unit rather harshly, though the automaton had perceived it as a friendly act, "Finally, somebody my size! You will make an excellent sparring partner!" he chuckled, a laughter in which the machine tried to join. It cackled with joy, its optic narrowing in an attempt to form a smile. From a distance, Zarya could only stare in horror as she witnessed the whole act. With her head hung low, she was quick to leave the room.

"Tell me your thoughts, my friend," Zenyatta's calm voice spoke, earning the automaton's attention. It beeped happily.

 _"Maybe... This is my home now,"_ it thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm truly sorry for taking so long! I plan on updating this far more often now. A bunch of personal stuff went down - but thank you guys so, so much! I never expected to get this amount of feedback and likes; it really is amazing. You guys are honestly the best. 
> 
> Also, you guys should totally follow my new Tumblr! I'll be posting updates and other related things there and, if you're interested, you can ask me questions either about Overgrown Adulation, or anything else! 
> 
> http://themelonninja.tumblr.com/


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